


Sick Kid

by Pollarize



Category: Bandom, Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Cancer, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:03:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15104837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pollarize/pseuds/Pollarize
Summary: Tyler just wanted to be normal





	Sick Kid

**Author's Note:**

> this has been finished since like a week after the cover of Cancer dropped but i havent posted it for whatever reason. anyway, i was cleaning out my docs and i figured id post it.

It was a weird thing to watch someone deteriorate, weirder to be the one to go through that. 

 

Tyler was first diagnosed when he was seven years old. He used to play at recess with the other kids his age, they’d run through bark chips and across structures and have the time of their life. That was Tyler’s favorite part of school until he started missing it altogether. 

 

He was sick a lot and his family chalked it up to a weak immune system.

 

“Baby, you have another fever?” His mother asked, wrapping him in blankets as he shivered in his bed. He was tired, his body hurting. They knew better than to try and send him to school. So on those days, Tyler stayed in and watched a marathon of Scooby-Doo, ate applesauce, and slept as much as possible. 

 

Then he would be back at school, running like he hadn’t been sick. The ache in his knees didn’t stop but it also didn’t stop him. He was seven and he wanted to play. His mother didn’t like it so much. He’d come home with bruises on his arms and legs, dark marks that scared his mother. She sat him down one night, stroking his cheek with her thumb. 

 

“Baby,” she always started, saying it like she could wrap him up in blankets and carry him again. 

 

“Sweetie,” she would say next, pulling him closer and he’d whine ‘Mom’ until she gave up. “Is someone at school hurting you?” She asked, touching the bruises that littered his skin. He never hesitated to shake his head because no, nobody had hurt him. 

 

“I tripped, Mom,” he said because it was true. He’d also run into a table, a wall, maybe the door, and tripped over his friend's leg only to fall to the floor. The look on her face said she didn’t quite believe him but she let it go. 

 

Tyler stood in the mirror that night, looking at his arms and then leaning forward to look at his legs. He knew that bruises were normal, all the kids had them but theirs were faded, yellowing. His own looked like the black marker exploded over his arm. They hurt but Tyler hardly cared because the very next day he was on the playground, running and screaming when a friend chased after him. 

 

It was like a pattern for him then. He was out of school the next day, head in the toilet as he threw up. It was stomach acid and snot by then, what little food he’d eaten had already been flushed away. He was coughing up nothing because there was nothing. His mom had hands in his hair and a hushed voice, talking him through it. She told him he was such a good boy but he hadn’t done anything besides make it to the toilet. 

 

He sobbed as he gagged because he hated throwing up most of all. His mouth tasted gross and it hurt. He couldn’t breathe properly and he had strings of something hanging from his nose and lips. 

 

“I think it came out my ears,” he whined, resting his cheek on the seat. The porcelain was cool on his skin and it felt amazing. He couldn’t be bothered to think about the germs that had to linger. 

 

“Out of your ears?” His mother asked, not having the heart to inform him that it was physically impossible. He nodded his head, a small movement that would have gone unnoticed if his mother wasn’t eagle eyes to Tyler’s every movement. “I think I might have saw that,” she said. Tyler fell asleep leaning against the toilet. 

 

Tyler quickly got used to eagle eyes because when he didn’t stop shaking for three days, his mother decided he needed a doctor. 

 

Doctors took his temperature and his vital signs, they told his mother that he had the flu. They sent him home and said that he should be good in a couple days. But a couple of days were up and Tyler was sleeping on the bathroom floor. It smelled distinctly of stomach acid and the only food he’d managed to barely keep down were saltines. He was back at the doctors after a week of having the flu and they said the same thing.

 

“He’s fine, send him to school,” they said and Eagle Eyes Joseph said that that wasn’t good enough. She took Tyler to a different doctor and he had said the same thing. He sat her down when she refused to listen.

 

“Ma’am, please,” he started and she held a finger up. It silenced him immediately. 

 

“No, you listen to me. I have already heard that it’s just the flu. Look at him. He’s been this way for a week now and it’s only getting worse. I have two other kids and they have never been this sick. For the love of God, do not just tell me this is the flu,” she said and the doctor sat there scratching his head for a long time. He frowned and looked at Tyler, bundled up in a sweatshirt that was too big and blankets that did nothing to stop the chills. His eyes looked sunken, bags under them that shouldn’t be on any child. 

 

“Look, the only thing that comes to mind is something you’d need a specialist for,” he said, frowning and shrugging his shoulders, “If this isn’t the flu then it’s something that’s attacking his body, illness or disease, he could have been born with something, it’s not the most common thing out there but it’s unlikely for him to have it,” he said and they were watching Tyler. He had no idea what was going on, having fallen asleep the minute he rested his head on the wall. Maybe it was mother's instinct but she knew, she just knew. 

 

“It’s not the flu,” she said again and the doctor agreed to send him to see a specialist. 

 

Tyler found out real quick that he hated needles. The new doctors loved to stick him with them. Giant needles in his elbow that pulled out seemingly endless amounts of blood. 

 

“Squeeze this,” a nurse said, handing over a giant plush bumble bee. It squeaked when Tyler squeezed it to his chest and it put a smile on his face. The nurse smiled, too. 

 

“What’re you doing with my blood? Does it go to vampires?” He asked, eyes lighting up at the thought of it. Even when he felt like his absolute worst, he was still a child, still able to find the fantasy in life. Tyler’s mother smiled at that. The nurse pulled a vial from the end of the tube, replacing it with another. 

 

“This vial that’s filling right now is for the vampires, the others are going to be tested on,” she explained and Tyler couldn’t help the gasp. 

 

“Am I like a superhero or something?” He asked and the nurse tried to smile but her eyes were so very sad.

 

“We have to test to find out, see if you’ve got that special DNA,” the nurse explained. Tyler’s mother left the room then, a hand covering her mouth.

 

Unfortunately, Tyler didn’t get to keep the plush bumble bee. It went back to the shelf where it sat for the next scared little boy and Tyler went to a different doctor where they stuck him with more needles. They talked about confirming and Tyler’s mother cried while she held his hand. He didn’t understand, just knew that he felt sick and he was most likely a superhero.

 

It was a couple days later when he was, yet again, in a doctor's office. They sat him down and smiled, asked if he wanted a lollipop. His mouth still tasted like vomit and he didn’t want to ruin lollipops forever. 

 

Tyler was seven years old and didn’t understand a lot of big words but he knew enough to understand why his mother cried and he knew enough to know that he was actually not a superhero. 

 

“Your son had a high amount of white blood cells in his blood and we’ve diagnosed him with leukemia,” the doctor said, leaving the room in silence. Tyler remembered learning about the different cells in science. He learned that white blood cells were fighters, that they kept his blood clean. He leaned forward, a small smile on his face.

  
“So, I am a superhe-” he started, freezing when his mother cut him off.

 

“Tyler, don’t,” she said quickly. He looked up at her to find her with her eyes closed, a hand pressed to her eyes. He’d gotten very used to what that meant. He knew that she was fighting back tears and he looked between her and the doctor, confused why it was upsetting. 

 

“Tyler, have you heard of cancer before?” The doctor answered, his voice quiet and soothing. Tyler didn’t want to be soothed, he wanted to understand what cancer had to do with him. He could swear under God’s name that he had never smoked a day in his life, could swear up and down that he had been good, of course, besides that one time when he took candy from the candy drawer after nine. 

 

“Yeah? My grandma has it,” he said, remembering last Thanksgiving when she spent the night in the bathroom rather than the dinner table with family. He remembered hearing about his friend's grandparents, the funerals, how they were all old. He wasn’t old, he was a kid. He played on playgrounds and didn’t need a cane to walk. 

 

“Well, leukemia is a type of cancer but we’re gonna take good care of you,” he said but his words didn’t quite register.

 

He thought that maybe, if he actually had cancer, he’d feel sick. Nevermind that he’d felt sick for weeks, that he was always throwing up anymore. The school had already called to inform his parents that they would have to hold him back for missing too much school. Tyler thought that a diagnosis would make things more real because he had chosen to forget the fact that his best friend was the toilet. He forgot that he couldn’t keep up at recess anymore.

 

Tyler got over his fear of needles.

 

When he couldn’t sit in front of his toilet, he was on a recliner. It wasn’t even a comfy one. There was a trashcan next to it that Tyler usually used, there was a metal stand next to him. It had a bag and a drip, a needle that went into Tyler’s skin and stayed there for hours. If he listened really hard he could hear the liquid dripping. 

 

“It’ll help,” his mother said, hands in his hair while her child was bent over the toilet. The fear of throwing up went away, too. He spent far too much time in the bathroom to be scared of it. He almost expected it now. Tyler tried making a game of it, guessing what time he’d start throwing up based off how he felt. 

 

“My stomach doesn’t feel good,” he’d whine, wanting to watch something other than Jeopardy. His parents would try and shoo him to the bathroom. 

 

“Don’t throw up on the carpet, you know better,” his father said but Tyler just shook his head. 

 

“I think it’ll happen at seven-fifty,” he said, checking the time. It was only seven-twenty.

 

That time he was off by two minutes. At seven-fifty-two, Tyler threw up. 

 

His sister was only a baby when he first started chemotherapy. She was a baby but her room was fully decorated. It was pink which Tyler found he liked. He could usually hear her soft breathing from the crib and he liked that, too. When he felt okay enough to sit for long periods of time, he’d sit in front of the full length mirror that leaned against a wall in his sister's room. The edges of it were pink and the glow from that gave Tyler’s face some color that he hadn’t seen there in a long time. 

 

He sat in front of the mirror a lot at the beginning of his therapy. He remembered wanting to spike his hair because he was going to school tomorrow. He had his hands in his hair, trying to force it to stand up but he only succeeded in pulling a chunk of it out. Tyler stared at the hair in his hands, realizing it was his own. He ran down the stairs with tears on his cheeks, holding his hands out to his mother. She frowned, hating how upset he was over it 

 

“It’s just hair, baby, why don’t we shave the rest?” She offered, trying to soothe him. He shook his head. 

 

“They’ll make fun of me, they already won’t talk to me,” he said, being sure to keep his hands off his head. 

 

They made fun of him because they thought he was contagious. He missed too much school, he spent more time in the bathroom than the classroom, he always cried. The first day back after he’d been diagnosed was by far the worst. The teacher stood him in front of the class and told them all the sad, sad news. She asked them to be helpful and to support him but it only made things worse. That was the first time that he wanted to throw up for reasons other than being sick. 

 

The other kids laughed when his hair had patches missing. Tyler’s mother frowned when she found a pile of hair on his sister's floor. Tyler cried when he woke up each morning to find it sticking to his pillowcase. 

 

He gave up one day on trying to keep his hair on his head. He stood in the shower and rubbed at his head until the skin burned. He could see his own hair clump over the drain, could feel how little he had left. That night, he let his mother shave the rest. 

 

Tyler got his first real crush when he was in seventh grade. She was beautiful in his eyes. The rest of the school didn’t think so. Her hair was in patches the way his had been before. Hers fell out the way his had. He thought she was beautiful even with the choppy length that looked like a toddler had cut her hair.

 

“Alopecia,” she said when Tyler finally got the nerve to talk to her, “What about yours, baldie?” She asked, using the nickname that had stuck with him for far too long. His eyes turned down the way they always did and he felt that stab in his chest from years of being ashamed. 

 

“Cancer,” he said and he hoped she felt bad for joking about his hair. 

 

He stopped liking her after what she’d said to him but he didn’t stop being her friend. She was an outcast like him, weird because she didn’t look the same as everyone else. 

 

It was eighth grade when she visited him in the hospital. He had a tube up his nose and tubes in his arms. She had a wig on and he didn’t recognize her. 

 

“I thought you shaved your head?” Tyler asked and she shrugged her shoulders. 

 

“And I thought you were getting better?” She teased, pulling a chair up so she could sit next to him. 

 

“I’m totally getting better,” he said, not telling her that he’d thrown up over the side of the bed a few minutes ago, too weak to get out of bed and to the bathroom. He knew that his lie was easy to see through. The smell of stomach acid and mop liquid was strong in his room. She smiled at him anyway and let them both believe that they weren’t terrified. 

 

“What’s with the wig anyway? I thought we agreed to stop paying attention to what they said?” He asked, knowing that it wasn’t as easy as saying it. The words still hurt and the taunts still bothered him. 

 

“They started calling me baldie, I didn’t want to hear it,” she said and for a moment, he hated her. He wanted to yell at her and tell her that at least she still had some hair, at least she could grow it out a little and try to hide it. He was stuck with beanies that made him look even more like a cancer patient. He was stuck with vomit because in the end, that’s what his life revolved around. 

 

He looked at the dinner his mother made and wondered what it would taste like when it no doubt came back up. He counted down the seconds before he’d be tripping over himself to get to the bathroom in time. 

 

“Baldie,” he repeated, laughing humorlessly. He was upset, she was supposed to be his best friend. It wasn’t even a weak ago that they’d shook hands, swearing to forget all the other kids in their classes, that they were going to be proud of themselves. 

 

“It’s hard on your own,” she said softly and Tyler only nodded, “Besides, we’re going to start high school soon, I don’t want to be  _ that  _ kid anymore.” She realized how it sounded after the words had left her mouth. 

 

It was only small talk after that, obvious to anyone that Tyler no longer felt good. 

 

“Your stomach?” His mother asked when she came back in the room. His friend had just left. For once, he was able to say no. This time it was his head and maybe even his heart. 

 

High school started and Tyler was back to being alone. His friend wore her wig every day, she pretended like underneath that she wasn’t in patches. She made friends easily because unlike Tyler, she looked normal now. 

 

First days of school were never fun. It was always ‘what’s your name and one fact about you,’ and Tyler had nothing. The most interesting thing about his life was he had cancer. The rest of his life was sleeping, trying to find some sort of energy to make it back to school.

 

“My name is Tyler and I’ve got cancer,” he said in each of his classes. He knew they’d wonder why he didn’t have hair, for those who were new. They always asked ‘what’s wrong with you?’ like those words weren’t hurtful. 

 

It was halfway through freshman year when his used to be friend came up to him. She smiled like they hadn’t been silent to each other for months.

 

“Isn’t high school great?” She asked, grinning wide, telling her group of friends she’d just be a second. 

 

“No,” he said honestly. Today was a day that he’d call his mother, say he felt really, really sick when in fact, he was doing okay. 

 

“Is it because of-” she started, hands gesturing to his head and then the rest of his body. He forced a laugh out before nodding.

 

“How’d you know?” He asked like it wasn’t obvious. 

 

“Have you thought about getting a wig? You just gotta love yourself, ya know?”

 

He walked away then because wigs weren’t the answer to his problems. It didn’t cure the disease that made him sick so often and it didn’t make people want to be friends. 

 

Senior year was starting and he’d had to move. His family couldn’t afford the house they used to be in. They moved across town into a house that was more affordable. It wasn't as big, the neighborhood didn't seem as welcoming, but Tyler was needing more treatment. 

 

He hated that he was taking her advice now of all times. While she had friends and a boyfriend, too, Tyler was stuck with trying to fit in, trying to introduce himself. He wanted to have someone, was sick of being alone. 

 

Senior year was the first time Tyler swore. 

 

It was on the first day of school, hat pulled down so it covered his ears, so it gave the illusion that he was somewhat normal. He didn’t have any eyebrows, it was the only giveaway. 

 

He stepped inside his new school and looked around. He reached up to grab his beanie, pulling it off his head and earning some stares.

 

“Fuck this,” he said, walking through the halls and trying to fake confidence. He imagined he still had hair, that he wasn’t so skinny. He tried to pretend like he had friends and it helped. 

 

“Let’s introduce ourselves,” the teacher said and it was like every other year again. It got to Tyler and everyone turned like they expected what he expected, too.

 

“Hi, my name’s Tyler and I’ve watched The Office too many times to count,” he said, earning a few laughs this year instead of whispers. 

 

Tyler didn’t sit alone at lunch that year. A girl asked if he wanted to sit with her and her friends, five others that all smiled when he sat down. Tyler smiled when nobody asked what was wrong with him, even though it was obvious with his appearance. He smiled wider when nobody asked why his lunch was so bland, crackers and oatmeal, chicken noodle soup. It was something he usually kept down.

 

They didn’t question it when he missed a week at a time, when he showed up to school with a hospital bracelet on his wrist that he’d forgotten to cut off. 

 

“You should collect those,” she said, the same girl who had invited him to sit at the table. Her name was Jenna and she always smiled at Tyler. She was his second crush. 

 

“Collect them?” He asked, scissors already having cut through the material. He handed them back to the teacher. 

 

“Yeah, could go to a rave with it or something? Have you seen those kids walking around with those obnoxiously colorful bracelets up and down their arms?” She asked and Tyler nodded. He always saw them in small groups together. “You could do that but instead of do-it-yourself bracelets, it’s hospital bracelets.” He wrinkled his nose at the idea.

 

“I’m there too much, I hate it,” he said and she nodded her understanding. 

 

Jenna ended up being his first heartbreak. 

 

He confessed his feelings to her, told her it was a crush but, as he said, “It’s like, totally a big crush.” She smiled and hugged him. He didn’t know what to make of that. 

 

“I’m don’t want to just be the sick kid anymore. You never once treated me like that and I don’t know,” he said when she pulled away. 

 

“This isn’t because you’re the sick kid, okay? Please understand why I have to say no,” she said and he figured that it was a crush because it was meant to crush him. “I’m gay, Tyler. If I liked boys then this would be completely different but, well you weren’t here, I told everyone last year,” she said and he figured it made sense. 

 

The next day she smiled at him like she always did and she was kind enough to pretend like it hadn’t even happened. In a way, he was thankful it was Jenna and nobody else. She didn’t make fun of him, didn’t tell the whole group about ‘what a complete loser’ he was. She smiled and carried on conversation. She allowed them to stay friends and that was the most he could ask for. 

 

It was Jenna who started the game of never have I ever. 

 

They’d all gone to Mark’s house since he had a basement that parents rarely checked on. They sat in a circle, a space heater in the middle of them. Tyler had his jacket as well as Mark’s draped over him. They all knew he had trouble staying warm. 

 

“Ten fingers,” Mark said, having to explain it to Tyler. He’d been shocked at first, wondering how Tyler could have never played it before.

  
“What? Is this your first time having friends?” He’d joked, not realizing that it was true. Tyler shrugged and looked down at the rug they were sitting on, cheeks burning. 

 

“We’ll go around in a circle and say something we haven’t done before, if you have done it, put a finger down,” he explained and Tyler thought it was easy enough. 

 

The first question surprised Tyler. 

 

“Never have I ever done anal,” one guy said and a shocking number of fingers hesitantly went down. Tyler looked around at the group, not sure what to make of it. They went around, listing things off and not once did Tyler put a finger down. It got to him and he thought for a minute, going through a list of all the experiences he hadn’t yet gotten to experience. 

 

“Never have I ever kissed someone,” he said finally, laughing quietly as people groaned and as people called him a liar.

 

“There’s no way,” someone said, refusing to put their finger down.

 

“You’re a fucking liar.”

 

They all stared at him and he simply shrugged again, not meeting any of their eyes. 

 

“It just hasn’t happened, nobody wanted to get my disease,” he said and he knew that was impossible but that’s what it seemed like with how everyone treated him. 

 

“Okay, well that’s bullshit. Some kinky shit has happened in this basement and there is no way I’m letting you leave here without getting a kiss,” Mark said, making it his mission. He leaned across the circle to plant his lips on Tyler’s, cup the back of his neck and kiss him in front of everyone. It surprised Tyler to say the least and he wasn’t sure what to do. He tried to kiss back, tried to use tongue but ended up getting spit on his lips and some on his chin. 

 

Tyler was laughing when Mark pulled away.

 

“Sorry, I should have asked,” Mark said, wiping at his mouth. He didn’t make fun of Tyler for his poor kissing skills, didn’t broadcast it to the group. Tyler shrugged.

 

“No, that’s okay, hope you don’t get sick,” he said, a tentative smile. 

 

“Put your finger down, you liar,” Jenna said, grinning at him.

 

Tyler decided he liked the friends he’d made.

 

It was a few weeks later when Tyler sat at lunch with his head on the table. They watched him carefully, noticing he hadn’t even touched his oatmeal. It wasn’t the first time that they’d seen him be miserable, wouldn’t be the first time they watched as he ran to the nearest trashcan when the bathroom just wasn’t close enough. They were almost waiting for it to happen again. 

 

“You okay?” Somebody finally asked and Tyler just shook his head. He sat up straight, arms wrapped tight around himself, beanie pulled low on his forehead. 

 

“Everything hurts,” he mumbled and they relaxed when they saw that he didn’t look as green as he had before. 

 

“Ever tried weed?” One guy asked, raising his eyebrows at Tyler. The group was a little shocked and Tyler just raised his eyebrows right back.

 

“That stuff is illegal,” he said, biting at his lip. 

 

“Yeah? It also has like, pain relieving stuff,” he said and that part of it sounded good to Tyler. He spent a lot of time being in pain.

 

“But it’s illegal,” Tyler said again, watching his friends roll their eyes.

 

“If you’re twenty-one it’s not,” he said and Tyler just huffed. It was a known fact that he was a year older than everyone else in his grade but nineteen sure didn’t sound legal.

 

“You’re right, it’s still illegal for me,” he said and that ended the conversation. 

 

It didn’t stop the thoughts in his head though. Ibuprofen only got him so far in one day and it didn’t hardly work after another chemo treatment. 

 

There was a small clearing just off school property and a trail that lead towards a patch of trees that people called a forest. It was pretty widely known that on fallen trees sat kids that had pockets lined with illegal substances. Tyler stood at the edge of the clearing, not sure if he should just turn and walk home or if he should look like he’d wanted to.

 

He thought of his first day of senior year, how he’d promised to be more than just the cancer kid, how he’d managed to actually make friends, how he actually felt happy. He found himself walking forward.

 

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath, feet moving down the trail. He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets, not sure what to expect. He almost thought he’d see kids with sunken faces, arms with needles in them. He thought he’d see the terrible looking faces on ads that reminded viewers not to do drugs. 

  
Instead, he found kids he had classes with. He found smiles and a smell that was quite frankly, awful. He stood by a log that had two kids on it, stood behind a small circle. His presence was known pretty quickly. They all turned to stare at him, waiting for whatever it was that he was about to say. It shocked him that he was there doing anything.

 

“How much is it to buy something?” He asked, realizing he didn’t even have cash, that his parents wouldn’t give him anything because they were all a little broke. He might try and scam a few dollars from a nurse for food if he really wanted to go through with it. 

 

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” One kid asked and Tyler wondered if it was as obvious as he thought. The answer was yes because nobody was surprised when he nodded. 

 

“Why don’t you sit down? You can try some of mine. I’d hate to sell you something and have you hate it,” he said and Tyler hesitated. He didn’t want to share anything that he’d have to put his mouth on but he was sitting down on a towel on a log anyway. 

  
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said finally when the guy brought a pipe to his own mouth and inhaled. It smelled worse up close. 

 

“Why? Cause it’s weed?” He asked and Tyler just shrugged. 

 

“I get sick really easy and I could get you sick, too, like, colds and stuff,” he said, always having to clarify from when kids would ask about getting cancer, too. The guy shrugged and offered his own pipe to Tyler. 

 

“If you’re worried about yourself then that’s up to you, I’ll be fine,” he said and Tyler sat there staring at the colorful glass, had eyes on him. He decided to take it. He fumbled for a long time with the lighter, embarrassing himself enough that the guy took it from him, did it for him. “Just breathe in slowly,” he said and the smoke tasted awful, too. It suffocated him on the way down and he coughed on the way up. 

 

“Does it always?” Tyler started, abandoning the rest of his sentence to cough instead. The guy nodded his head and grinned. 

 

“I sometimes still choke, don’t feel bad,” he said, taking his pipe back.

 

“Should I feel something?” He asked and the guy laughed again, shaking his head.

 

“Not right away and definitely not after one hit,” he said.

 

Tyler didn’t intend on being reckless, didn’t intend on doing something that his parents might disown him for. He was curious about the pain relief, wanting the ache he constantly felt to go away at least a little. He almost wanted it to not work so he could go back home and not feel guilty when he reeked of marijuana and he swayed a little. But it did work. Tyler went home and he reeked of marijuana and he swayed a little when he stood. The microwave beeped and Tyler thought it was hilarious. 

 

His parents didn’t question it even when they knew what the smell on his clothes was. They wouldn’t question it because Tyler ate dinner that night. He was hungry for once. He smiled, he laughed, it was something that had been lacking in their home and if they had to play dumb, they would. Tyler might have thrown up everything he ate but it was baby steps. 

 

If it happened to be a Sunday and Tyler was out in the forest, three jackets this time, he didn’t care. 

 

It turned out that the guy who shared, his name was Josh. He didn’t ever ask Tyler for money. 

 

“You don’t have a lot at home, do you?” Josh asked. It was just them two since the others had left an hour ago. Tyler shook his head.

 

“Most of it goes to my treatments. I feel bad,” he whispered and Josh understood. He never asked what was wrong with Tyler though it was obvious. Tyler never knew why people even had to ask. 

 

“Does this help?” He asked, passing the pipe back to Tyler. He took it gratefully because truth was, anything was better than nothing. 

 

“A little. I wanted it for pain and it does help some,” he explained and Josh seemed to think that was the best news he’d heard all day. He wrapped an arm around Tyler’s shoulders, pulling him in close. He kissed Tyler’s temple and smiled wide when he pulled away.

 

“Good.”

 

Josh ended up being Tyler’s third crush. 

 

Josh hung out with Tyler and his friends sometimes. He came over to Mark’s house one time and they decided, for Tyler’s benefit because they could all see his heart eyes, that they wanted to find out Josh’s secrets. 

 

They all sat down in a circle as they declared it was never have I ever again. 

 

“Tyler wins every time,” Jenna said, smiling across the circle to him. Josh had sat next to him, looking over and raising his eyebrows. 

 

“The sick kid routine,” Tyler said, a bashful smile on his face. 

 

They went around in circles and Tyler laughed as he learned new things about his friends. Things they’d done in bed that they really didn’t want to admit to. 

 

“It was one time, okay?” Mark had said, face bright red as people stared at him in shock, “I found her on Tinder, she wanted to have sex and just, whatever, okay?”

 

It got to Tyler and he smiled as he looked around at everyone.

 

“Never have I ever had sex,” he said, looking over to Mark then, “Do not come across this circle and do that,” he said, remembering the kiss incident. The group just laughed but Josh was watching him, looking like he wanted to say something.

 

He didn’t say anything, in the end. He did say something else. 

 

“I like you,” he said, sitting out on a towel, a blanket around Tyler’s shoulders. They sat closer than most friends for the sake of Tyler because, well, he got cold easily. That was Josh’s excuse, at least. 

 

The comment shocked Tyler and he frowned, pulling back. He didn’t want to listen to it, didn’t want to believe it. He still sat there wondering how somebody normal could like him. He wanted to argue and say he was fucked up, say that he wasn’t worth the time. They’d all seen the statistics, they knew what cancer did to families and friends. It seemed Josh knew that Tyler was about to say something.

 

“Tyler, I like you. I know you’ve got cancer and that doesn’t matter, okay? I mean, it does, I want you to be healthy but still, you’re interesting. I like talking with you, I want to hold your hand sometimes. Maybe kiss you if you’re okay with that and not like, sick and stuff,” he said quickly, cheeks red from embarrassment or from the cold. Josh probably would have said it was the cold. Tyler looked down at his shoes, trying to dig a hole with the toes. He wanted to sink into the ground, hide. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say because it shouldn’t work out happily for him. Maybe when he was in remission, when he was cured, maybe then he could be happy but surely not when he had an appointment tomorrow to pump his body full of chemicals.

 

“I’m sick a lot. I’m always in and out of the hospital. If you took me on a date I’d probably spend most of it in a bathroom,” he said honestly, his words like some sort of warning.

 

“I can buy some garbage bags and leave them in my car, just in case,” he said, Tyler’s words not even bothering him. 

 

“And you’d have to meet my parents. My mom would never let me go out with someone if you didn’t,” he said, knowing how nervous she got. Josh just nodded and smiled, passing the pipe to Tyler. 

 

“I’ll do all of that if you’ll be my boyfriend.”

 

The worded sounded funny to Tyler, the situation felt funny. Nobody was supposed to like the sick kid, nobody was supposed to take baldie on a date, but here Josh was. It felt funny and he wasn’t sure what he felt or even should feel. But he nodded anyway because he wanted to try, wanted a shot to feel like a normal kid for once in his life.

 

“Boyfriend,” he said, the word funny on his lips but not unwelcome.

 

“Can I kiss you?” Josh asked, watching Tyler’s mouth as Tyler inhaled the smoke. He nodded as he exhaled.

 

“Yes but I’m not any good. Mark kissed me one time in his basement. Said he wouldn’t let me leave without having my first kiss,” Tyler confessed and Josh just laughed before he leaned in. It was shorter than Mark’s and Tyler knew better than to even attempt tongue. It was just a soft press of Josh’s lips to his before Josh was pulling away, smiling, touching Tyler’s cheek.

 

“Okay?” He asked and Tyler nodded before Josh did it again and again, did it until Tyler was dizzy and a little nauseous. 

 

“I should get home,” he said, knowing his mother would start getting worried. Josh nodded and walked him most of the way home before he had to turn the other way. 

 

“Your blanket,” Tyler said, trying to get it off of his shoulders so he could hand it back to Josh. 

 

“Keep it,” he said with a smile, stepping back over to kiss Tyler one more time, “Bring it with you next time you want to smoke.”

 

Tyler did. 

 

He ended up being out in the forest every day after school, well, on days that he went. He started missing school, the chemo making him feel worse than normal. He apologized to Josh the next day, offered to pay him back in kisses. 

 

They usually waited until the others had smoked and left before Josh would pull him in and kiss Tyler. He always tasted like smoke, a distinct taste that Tyler didn’t really enjoy but he enjoyed Josh nonetheless. 

 

Josh was always gentle, holding Tyler’s face like he might break if he squeezed too hard. When Tyler had to pull away and cough, Josh would rub his back until he had gotten whatever out that he needed. There was even the time where Tyler had smoked too much, the world spinning around him. Josh had wanted to kiss him but Tyler shoved him away, turning the other way and throwing up. Josh rubbed his back then, too. He wiped away Tyler’s tears when he cried, shook his head when Tyler apologized.

 

“Chemo was bad this time,” he said as explanation and Josh frowned but didn’t say anything. He pulled Tyler into a hug and rubbed his back, kissed his cheek. 

 

“It’s okay.”

 

They didn’t kiss for the rest of the day because Tyler wouldn’t let him near.

 

“I taste like stomach acid, I don’t want you to deal with that,” Tyler said as an excuse though it was a fair point. 

 

Josh didn’t tell Tyler that he always tasted like stomach acid the way Josh always tasted like smoke. He didn’t tell Tyler that even if he brushed his teeth three more times, Josh would still be able to taste it. He didn’t tell Tyler that he didn’t mind, that he thought it was just Tyler, that sure, it was gross, but he got over it, got used to it. Josh didn’t care because it was Tyler. 

 

The next day, Josh didn’t have a pipe in hand. Tyler was confused why he didn’t have a pipe, why he didn’t sit with the group they always did. He was farther away, the beginning of the forest leaning against a tree. His clothes were nicer, or as nice as Josh Dun would get. His jeans weren’t ripped and his shirt didn’t have anything that might be made out as inappropriate. Instead, it had kittens all over it. 

  
“What?” Tyler asked, looking at Josh, confused and a little unsure now.

 

“I want to take you out on a date, can I meet your parents?” He asked and Tyler could see how nervous he was. Tyler was nervous at the thought of it. He realized why Josh didn’t sit with his friends, why his clothes looked a little better than normal. 

 

“Yes,” Tyler finally managed, eyes a little wider than normal as he turned and left the forest with Josh in tow. Josh held his hand the whole way there, smiling so wide that Tyler thought his cheeks would split. 

 

They stood outside Tyler’s house, neither sure what to do. Tyler just dragged Josh along, wanting to get it over with as quick as possible. He opened the door, calling out for his mother first thing.

 

“Mom, it’s just me,” he said, feeling Josh squeeze his hand before dropping it. They toed their shoes off as they made their way towards the living room.

 

“Tyler? I thought you had that club after school?” She asked and Tyler heard Josh snort a small laugh out. He shrugged when his mother could see him.

 

“I wanted to hang out with my friend,” he said, bailing on outing himself at the last second. He looked down, a little ashamed that he lied about who Josh really was to him. Josh didn’t seem to mind, he smiled and shook Tyler’s mother's hand, he introduced himself politely and Tyler couldn’t look up. 

 

“You two have fun,” she said, smiling as she waved goodbye to Josh, not caring if they went upstairs, probably not even caring if the door was closed. Like Tyler could do anything, anyway. Josh was turning and leaving the room, going to the stairs where he thought Tyler’s room would be. His mother was turning and going to sit back on the couch, continuing on with Dr. Phil like she did every afternoon. Tyler just stood there, embarrassed and a little ashamed that he chickened out of telling his mother. They both turned and looked at him at the same time, questioning why he hadn’t moved, why he looked on the edge of tears. 

 

“Tyler?” One of them asked, maybe both, he could hardly pick apart their voices with the arguing he had in his head. 

 

“He’s my boyfriend, I’m sorry,” Tyler blurted, face impossibly red. Josh was frozen with one foot on the staircase, his mother with her hand on the remote in the air. 

 

Josh was the first to act, half jogging back down the hall so he could laugh awkwardly, grab Tyler by the arm and try to tug him towards the stairs. Josh stopped when Tyler’s mother spoke up.

 

“Is that true, boys?” She asked, resting her hands in her lap. Tyler was a little too stunned with himself to do anything so Josh answered for them.

 

“Yeah, it is. He wanted to bring me over and introduce me but got nervous. I didn’t want to force him or anything but yeah, hi,” Josh said, trying to cover for himself and how he was just going to hide in Tyler’s room. Tyler’s mother looked between the two of them before nodding. 

 

“You know he’s sick, right?” She asked and Tyler felt himself deflate. He had told Josh all of this, they’d talked about it all. He still had that gut feeling that at the mere mention of it all, Josh might turn tail and run. He didn’t, though. He reached out and took Tyler’s hand, he smiled and nodded his head.

 

“I know,” he said like it was obvious because it was. He smiled until Tyler’s mother gave up.

 

In Tyler’s room with the door closed when it should have been open, Josh was the first time that somebody touched Tyler where his clothes covered him.

 

Besides doctors and mothers, of course. 

 

It started with his chest, gentle where it felt over clothes and then under clothes. Tyler was cold under Josh’s palm, was cold everywhere. Josh left like fire on his skin in the form of a blush, left him warmer than he had been in years. Josh touched where his ribs were too much, where his hips were too much. Josh didn’t seem disgusted to find Tyler skinnier than the other boys and girls.

 

“It’s okay,” Josh said, like he could read Tyler’s mind. Tyler repeated it a few times before Josh’s hand moved, touching Tyler over his pants. 

 

Tyler stopped him then, froze under the touch with a fire that wasn’t familiar, wasn’t welcome. It touched his cheeks and his ears, it touched his lungs and made it hard to breathe, made it so the only word he could get out was apologies.

 

“I’m sorry,” Tyler said, feeling again like Josh might leave. Josh pulled his hand back and didn’t leave.

 

“Don’t,” Josh said, completely serious. “I should have asked before I did anything,” he said and that was that. Josh smiled as he laid down and opened his arms. He was gentle as he pulled Tyler closer. Josh kept promising it was okay, that he understood. “We don’t have to do anything, I’m okay as long as you’re happy.” Tyler thought for awhile before he decided that if it was Josh, he might be okay with it.

 

“I’ve just never,” he paused, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. “I want my first time to be special. Is it stupid to think that? It feels stupid.” 

 

“It’s not stupid,” Josh said honestly, curious about the sentence Tyler abandoned. “What do you mean you’ve never?” 

 

That time, Tyler went redder than he ever had. He knew that by age nineteen, most boys had experimented with themselves if not others. Tyler blamed a lot of things on being sick, on chemo. He wasn’t like other boys. He found more enjoyment in making it to the bathroom on time rather than even the idea of an orgasm. 

 

“I’ve never, like, done stuff,” Tyler said, trying to explain without outright saying anything. Josh hummed like he understood but he didn’t really.

 

“Well, that makes sense. If I’m your first relationship then it isn’t weird that you haven’t messed around with anyone,” Josh said and Tyler wished that he could hide.

 

“No, I mean, like, with myself,” he said, voice smaller than his body. Josh was quiet, trying to understand how somebody could go that long without doing anything at all. He was still young with his mind in his dick. 

 

“How?” He finally asked, regretting it a moment later when Tyler shrunk in on himself. Tyler was still waiting for that moment when Josh finally realized what ‘sick’ meant, when he realized that it was more than just a cold, that Tyler wouldn’t be better anytime soon.

 

“Probably my cancer and chemo. Like I said, I spend most of my time being sick, I haven’t ever felt the need,” he said and Josh let it drop because he wouldn’t ever understand what it was like, couldn’t even pretend to understand. 

 

“I could make it special for you, if you wanted,” Josh offered after a little while of silence. Just because Tyler was sick didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. He knew it was stupid to feel like he was missing out but he did. He wanted to know what it was like to feel so close to someone, to feel something so amazing that there are whole movies made for the sole purpose of one orgasm. Tyler wanted to feel like he was normal for once in his life.

 

“Yeah,” Tyler said because if Josh was still as kind as he was now in a week, in two, in a month, Tyler wouldn’t mind. “Maybe a date first.”

 

It was two weeks later when Tyler had to cancel their first date. 

 

He felt worse than usual. He’d spent all day in the bathroom, vomiting with every slight movement. He was too tired, too dizzy to lift his head off of the toilet seat when another wave of vomit came up. He had stomach acid and snot all over his cheek but he didn’t have the strength to wipe it away.

 

He had texted Josh quickly, apologizing for the emotionless let down, apologizing for not being normal enough to go out for one night. 

 

Josh said it was okay. Josh said they could try again in a couple days. 

 

Tyler asked to do it the night before his chemotherapy, knowing that those days were his best and worst. That particular happened to be one of his best.

 

Josh had told him not to worry about anything fancy, that they’d sit down at a restaurant and there wouldn’t be candles or wine or anything. That didn’t stop Tyler from putting on a nicer button down shirt, a new pair of jeans that hadn’t been worn since his mother got them for him. He had enough strength to swat the tie away from his mother's hands, whining when she said she thought he wanted to be fancy.

 

“Josh said it wasn’t going to be fancy,” he reasoned and his mother just gave him a look, gesturing to his outfit. If he was any other person he would have gone and changed but he was Tyler ‘cancer’ Joseph and it had been a workout enough just trying to stay upright long enough to get dressed. 

 

But it seemed that Josh was nervous because he hadn’t taken his own advice. He wore a white button down with the sleeves rolled up. He was slightly less fancy, though, only because his jeans all had rips in the knees. He’d even slicked his hair back. 

 

“I thought you said it wasn’t fancy,” Tyler said, looking Josh up and down for a second. He couldn’t help the blush that came to his cheeks when he reminded himself that the person in front of him was his  _ boyfriend. His very own boyfriend.  _

 

“I thought you said you were too tired to be sarcastic,” Josh countered and Tyler managed a snort.

 

“That was yesterday, today is a new day,” he said and didn’t miss the way it had Josh beaming. 

 

It was words like that that had everyone around Tyler being proud. Moments when he forgot for a second how shitty he felt, moments when he was able to remain positive and not think about how he had a life-threatening illness. It made mother's smile and babies sing. Best of all, it made Joshua Dun smile.

 

It was just Olive Garden and there wasn’t a need for anything fancy but it seemed better in the end. They smiled at each other as they sat down, laughing at the looks they got. 

 

They were laughing until the whispers started. Tyler looked around and his smile fell because they were staring. They were always staring so why was this different? Josh noticed when he stopped responding, when he stopped smiling.

 

“Why’re they staring?” Josh asked, looking around and frowning. He didn’t quite understand why Tyler got upset.

 

“I’m the sick kid, remember? To them, they think I’m on my deathbed. I am, aren’t I?” He said, sitting back in his seat. Josh looked back to him, reached across the table for him. He took Tyler’s hands in his own and it was the most physical they had been in public. 

 

“Tyler, come on. What happened to today being a new day? Who cares what they think about you or me, why should you even be bothered by it?” He said and Tyler’s frown deepened. 

 

“But-” Tyler tried and Josh just shook his head.

 

“No, Tyler. Forget about them. Your bald head is soft and I think you’re adorable. You’re incredibly sweet and I like you for who you are. You just also happen to have cancer,” he said, smiling and it seemed so genuine, so sweet. If Tyler was anywhere else then he might have started crying. 

 

He realized how little that word had come from Josh’s mouth. Only second to when he’d confessed his feelings for him. Tyler thought of it like it was taboo, like the word cancer might scare Josh off for good, like he didn’t quite understand how serious things were. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t have a family member who’d struggled through the pain and hardships of chemo and of cancer, maybe he hadn’t seen how bad it could get. Josh wasn’t stupid, though. He understood something. He knew it was cancer, knew that Tyler wasn’t okay, that days when he smiled were to be cherished and were to be treated with such care. He knew that it wasn’t Tyler’s fault when he skipped school for a week, when he canceled plans, when he ignored Josh in favor of staring at a spot on the floor that was going to be covered in vomit in a matter of time. 

 

Tyler smiled and nodded, gave Josh’s hands a weak squeeze because it was all he could muster up. 

 

“Let them think whatever they want,” Josh said finally, his smile still there, “Who cares because we know the truth, right?”  He asked like he was clarifying that Tyler didn’t think he was some charity case. He wanted to know if Tyler still believed it was because he genuinely liked Tyler. 

 

There were times when Tyler sat there and wondered if it was a charity case. He wondered if Josh expected him to die within the week, if he just wanted the sick kid to feel happy for the short lifespan he was sure to get. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t on his deathbed, that, while he was miserable, he was doing better. Josh could see it with how Tyler blushed, not because of a fever but because Josh had said something disgustingly cute. Tyler nodded his head.

 

“We know the truth,” he repeated and it made his heart flutter with how Josh’s smile grew more, how he squeezed Tyler’s hands, nudged their feet together. Tyler was sure if there wasn’t a table separating them that Josh would have kissed him.

 

Tyler picked at his pasta, intending on making it through dinner without a vomit scare. It was plain with a little bit of tomato sauce. Tyler knew he couldn’t handle anything that was heavy. 

 

He did it, like he had wanted to. They talked through dinner and Josh laughed when Tyler got spaghetti sauce on his face. People stared and people whispered and Tyler kept his focus on Josh the entire time. He left feeling happy still, Josh’s hand in his, a kiss to the top of his head. 

 

“You should come with me to chemo sometime?” Tyler offered, knowing it wasn’t fun, boring at best. He hadn’t dated anyone before and it wasn’t his fault when he fell hard for his first. Josh was silent but he nodded, thinking it over.

 

“Yeah, I’m curious,” he said, not sure what Tyler went through. “Would I be able to hold your hand?” He asked and Tyler couldn’t help his laugh.

 

They had another date planned two weeks out. Josh had said that he didn’t mind paying for dinner or a movie or even both.

 

“I’ll just spend it on weed otherwise. This is better anyway,” he said because while they smoked together plenty, weed never produced the smiles that sitting down at dinner and holding hands did. 

 

Tyler canceled their date again. He didn’t feel well which wasn’t unusual. Josh said they could do it a few days later, next week, sometime. Tyler agreed but then a few days later came around and he hadn’t shown up to school. Tyler had gotten reaquainted with the feeling of being empty, the feeling of dry heaving because he had nothing left to throw up. Next week came around and Tyler still hadn’t shown up, hadn’t even responded to text messages because he was asleep or with his head in the toilet. 

 

But there was something fascinating in the way lights flashed red and white as the ambulance sped down the road. Fascinating in the way hands moved over limp bodies, lights in eyes.

 

“Sir, can you hear me?” They asked, touching, checking for a pulse and for breathing. 

 

Fascinating but terrifying because it meant parents in waiting rooms, asking and begging to know if their son was alright. They couldn’t get a straight answer and that might have been what hurt the most.

 

“You should call his boyfriend, I think they were a little serious. He’d be devastated.” That might have hurt them just as bad.

 

That was when Tyler got a call. 

 

He had been trying to sleep as his veins were pumped full of chemicals but his phone was more annoying than the IV. 

 

“Josh was in an accident,” Josh’s father said, sounding like he’d been crying, “He’s at the hospital.” Tyler was tempted to say something along the lines of ‘me too,’ or maybe ‘join the club’ but he was tired and it seemed inappropriate. He wished he had enough strength to sound upset. He hoped Josh’s family understood.

 

“What hospital?” He asked, knowing that he probably wouldn’t feel well enough when this was over to go and visit. 

 

“Legacy Emanuel,” he said and Tyler did manage to snort, “I’ll call you when I know more and if he can have visitors. You’ll visit, right?” Tyler looked up at the bag that was connected to his body and knew he’d be there for a couple more hours with not much else to do. 

 

“Yeah, I will.”

 

It was an hour later when Tyler got a text with a room number and an okay for Josh to see people. 

 

_ They say family only but Josh wants you here. I don’t have a problem with it _

 

It was enough to make Tyler smile. 

 

He was shaky as he stood up, sick even from the small movement but if he was throwing up on Josh’s floor then at least he was with Josh. The nurses all rushed over, urging him to sit down, to relax. They told him he couldn’t walk anywhere because he was too weak. Tyler knew they were right but he was determined enough to crawl if he had to. 

 

“My boyfriend is on the second floor, I’m gonna go see him,” he said and the nurses knew how much Josh meant. 

 

He’d been coming to this same hospital for years, sitting through chemo treatments with the same nurses. It was boring and they talked, shared stories. Tyler told them about all three of his crushes, told them how Jenna turned out to like girls, told them how Josh turned out to like him back. He told them when Josh asked to be his boyfriend, their date, told them everything because he considered them to be friends to an extent. One of the nurses gave him a sad smile but nodded.

 

“I’ll push you in a wheelchair if you hold the IV stand?” She offered and Tyler nodded.

 

He was wheeled down the hallway, the IV stand rolling beside him as they walked to Josh’s room.

 

Josh’s parents didn’t seem as concerned as they’d sounded on the phone, maybe annoyed, even. Josh was awake, smiling and laughing, stopping when he saw Tyler and full on grinning. 

 

“I thought you said I could go to your next chemo appointment,” Josh said, looking at how pale Tyler was and the bag that hung next to him. Tyler shrugged. 

 

“I thought you said that you were busy with friends,” Tyler said and Josh shrugged. 

 

It turned out that Josh was fine. They called paramedics before he had the chance to recover. 

 

“It was dumb,” Josh said, followed by a snort from his father.

 

“No, you are dumb,” Tyler countered but his hand was in Josh’s and his head was resting on the bed by Josh’s leg. His words lacked energy and force, from the chemo and from being a little too fond of Josh. He did make a great effort to smack his leg.

 

“You could have killed yourself,” Tyler said, not letting himself think about the what if’s of that statement. “You really need to wear a helmet and not do stuff on the stairs. Your skateboard, Josh?” Tyler asked, the idea seeming impossible to him. He’d never skated on anything. A board or even ice, he couldn’t imagine. 

 

“I’ve done it before,” Josh tried but he saw Tyler’s face and how scared he looked. He let out a sigh and agreed to Tyler’s request because he would do anything to see Tyler smile.

 

“If anyone is going to die, it’ll be me,” he said because it was the reality he faced every day. The whole room seemed to look at him and tell him to stop, tell him that he would live to be a hundred just like Josh who was going to wear his helmet ‘or else’ his mother said.

 

Josh found out that yes, he could hold Tyler’s hand during his chemo treatments and he left the hospital with a pretty good road rash on his cheek. He had a concussion that knocked him unconscious but for the most part he was fine. Dumb, as Tyler had said, but fine. 

 

Josh was back in school the very next day, letting others ask questions about his scabs that were up and down his arms, too. Tyler wasn’t in school. He was at home, his mother bringing crackers to the bathroom and asking if he could please try to eat.

 

He missed a week of school when Josh texted him, asking when he’d be back.

 

Josh texted him the same question every day.

 

_ ty when are you coming back? _

 

Tyler would apologize and say ‘Monday’ because he missed Josh and his homework was starting to pile up.

 

_ ty when are you coming back? _

 

_ Monday - I told you _

 

The text still made him smile even if he’d answered it every single day. 

 

As promised, he showed up on Monday. Tyler would have stayed home but he felt bad when he even thought about it. Josh had asked to see him, said he missed holding hands and well, Tyler couldn’t pass up that opportunity. 

 

Josh usually met him right by the front doors but he wasn’t there today. Tyler was a little disappointed but he knew that sometimes Josh was late, sometimes he wanted to smoke weed before he dealt with school. Tyler just shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked to class. 

 

Stares and whispers from others was something Tyler was familiar with, used to. He had learned to expect it wherever he went. School was no exception. He’d been there for months but still people talked and whispered, he hardly minded. 

 

Today felt different. When kids pointed and whispered, all of the eyes on him, it didn’t feel right. They didn’t look at his head or the beanie pulled low on his forehead. They were looking at him and for a second, he got worried because this was something new, this wasn’t him being sick or being made fun of. He looked down at himself, wondering if he’d spilled breakfast on himself. 

 

There weren’t any cracker crumbs on his sweatshirt. 

 

The hallway outside of his classroom was packed which was unusual. Tyler never had to squeeze through other kids just to get to algebra. They all looked at him when he did, wanted to say something, yell at him for being rude but they stopped themselves.

 

“That’s him,” he heard, the words confusing him. He looked back to where he’d heard the voice and found eyes looking at him.

 

“That’s Tyler,” he heard and he had no idea what was going on. He was a topic of gossip the first few months he was here but he couldn’t imagine why it was happening now. Missing school wasn’t new. 

 

He broke out of the throng of people, stumbling into a clearing. Tyler turned around and came face to face with a sign held by Josh with a giant grin on his face.

 

The sign was a little messy, the ink having gotten smeared a little. In the center of it was a whale that had been drawn with a giant smile on its face. 

 

‘Of all the fish in the sea, whale you go to prom with me, Tyler?’ it read and Tyler stopped, trying to get his head around it.  He didn’t notice the small bouquet of flowers that were in Josh’s other hand. He offered them to Tyler who took a hesitant step forward, taking them and smelling them for a lack of anything better to do. 

 

He realized he was meant to say something, that people were standing around with phones and cameras, watching. Tyler realized that the whispers felt wrong this time because they weren’t negative, they were all in happiness, curiosity. He was the topic of gossip again because Josh was doing something sickeningly sweet and very, very public.

 

Tyler pulled the flowers from his face, looking around before his eyes landed on somebody motioning for him to go on. He turned back to Josh who was still grinning but there was a brief flicker of doubt in his eyes when he noticed how long Tyler was taking to answer. 

 

Tyler had never thought about prom. He didn’t ever expect to even go with a group of friends because he’d spent so long being sick and alone that the thought of being upright for that long, of dancing, seemed absurd. He still felt sick, standing there in the hall at school, he had vomit on the back of his mind like a nagging fly that buzzed in his ear. But at the same time, he wanted to be normal so badly, he dreamed of a life like he saw on the bad TV shows he watched when his mother was busy and he couldn’t find the energy to go to school.

 

Yet here was Josh, his boyfriend, asking him to go to a school dance, wanting  _ him  _ specifically and only one answer seemed to make sense in Tyler’s head.

 

“Of course,” he finally said, watching as Josh dropped the poster and crushed the flowers between him and Tyler as he pulled Tyler into a hug. There was a deafening noise in the hall and teachers shouting at everyone to get to class. Tyler was beyond caring, squeezing Josh back and crying because this was real, he had something normal.

**Author's Note:**

> so, if you guys havent noticed, i dont really post joshler anymore. i think its because twenty one pilots is dead as fuck. ive been really digging brallon lately (as im sure you can see from how my account has posted more of that lately). sorry to say but this is probably the last joshler centric story i will write. i know there is at least one other where joshler is a side pairing but .. yeah. sorry? if you like brallon or want to get into brallon then i got u


End file.
